Soil
by SWTORpadawan
Summary: The world changes us. A common enough idea. But sometimes, it does so quite literally.


_Tython  
__Tythonian Gnarls Training Grounds  
__12 ATC_

Corellan Halcyon's hand reached out and touched the soil.

It was almost an inadvertent action as he came out of his Force leap. He was needed here; he had been sent.

All around him were Jedi Padawans and Younglings who were in danger, falling under the Flesh Raiders' attacks. A few meters away three of the vicious beasts were distracted devouring the body of one of the fallen. It was too late to save that Padawan, but the others – including those taken prisoner – they could still be saved.

He did not – _could_ not – grasp or define everything that he felt in that moment. All the thoughts and images that flashed through his mind were a jumble. It would take days, weeks, even months for him to understand it all. Much later, he would come to many conclusions. He came to understand was that his life had changed in that very instant he touched the soil. Everything he had experienced up until that moment in his life had been mere prelude. Yes, the individual elements had already been present; he was a fully-grown adult at 21 and had spent virtually his entire life training to be a Jedi, and he was already praised for his lightsaber skills. But it was only in that moment that they combined into the person he would become – whom he _needed_ to become. Much later, he would realize that the Force or even Tython itself was, in a fashion, reprogramming him. Shaping him to be what it needed.

Tython was a world of the Light, and through the Force it was calling on him to save it from the Dark that had risen from within – in the form of these Flesh Raiders – and then to protect it against the darkness of the galaxy beyond.

He would be that protector, the light in the darkness, the force that turned the tide.

In this life was not his own, he would become the _hero_.

But in that moment – in that _instant_ – all he knew was what he had to do.

All of this – _all_ of this – went through his mind in less than a second's time.

Corellan drew both his training sabers, and then went to work.

* * *

_Odessen  
__Alliance Headquarters construction site  
__21 ATC_

Corellan Halcyon's hand reached out and touched the soil.

The action was deliberate. There was no immediate danger or emergency involved; merely the conscious decision to press his hand to the raw earth of Odessen and to gain a sense for this place.

He and his team from the Gravestone had just landed, joining dozens of other individuals already gathered at the site of what would become the new base of their Alliance.

(How long had Lana Beniko been working on this undertaking? And she wanted _him_ to lead it?)

All around him were these people – Jedi, Sith, Republic, Empire, Zakuulan or otherwise – were apparently looking to him to lead them to victory against an enemy that had dominated the entire galaxy. They were not simply light or dark. They were people who had made a choice to be here, apparently, because they wanted to follow him.

But it was more than that. When he touched the soil, he could feel the Force once again influencing him, as it had years ago on Tython. But this time, it was not a sculptor shaping him as if he were a piece of clay. It was now a path that lay before him, one that would guide him through a dark and stormy night.

Odessen was a world in balance, and through the Force it was calling on him to restore balance to the galaxy. To _lead_.

He would become that leader, the one who would restore peace to the galaxy, and he knew the principles that drove him could be his guide rather than his burden.

He would _choose_ to become the _Outlander_.

It would not be until months later – after he met with Satele and Marr – that he would truly begin to understand all of this. And even then, he would still not know the inner peace that he had long sought. That would only come much later, still.

But for now, for the first time in a long time, he felt balance.

A hand gently touched his shoulder. He looked up and saw Lana looking down at him, with a concerned expression in her yellow-Sith eyes.

"Commander?" she asked. "Are you alright?"

She had sacrificed much and risked even more for him. He hoped whatever confidence she was counting on him to inspire in others was one she also could feel as well. He gave her a reassuring smile. It was the least he could do for all she had done on his behalf.

"I am."

Lana returned the smile and nodded. "They're ready for you." She said. "They're looking for you to lead them as only you can."

She then stood back, placing herself in a position of support.

Corellan rose up, looking out at all those who had journeyed here.

In the years since Tython, he had come to understand that life didn't follow any kind of natural progression. There was no continuous line moving upwards in a predictable manner along some graph. Life went up and down and sometimes even appeared to slide backwards. But above all, life was made up of moments; times when things seemed to change very quickly and where our actions defined who we are, and who we become.

_This_ life was now his own.

"I'm home." he whispered.

Then Corellan went to work, as he began to address his Alliance.

"May I have your attention…"


End file.
